


Lullaby

by resonae



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Apocalypse, Illnesses, M/M, OT12 - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 08:18:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1737728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resonae/pseuds/resonae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The beginning of the end starts with half the population dying.</p><p>Yifan remembers it the virus was suddenly announced. The next day, everyone he knew was getting high fevers. Soon they were throwing up blood. By the end of the week, there was an estimate of about 4 billion dead.</p><p>Three days later, Yifan wakes up feeling feverish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lullaby

The beginning of the end starts with half the population dying.

 

Yifan remembers it the virus was suddenly announced. The next day, everyone he knew was getting high fevers. Soon they were throwing up blood. By the end of the week, there was an estimate of about 4 billion dead.

 

So Yifan corrects himself. The beginning of the end starts with more than half the population dying.

 

His mother, his only family, is one of those people. He calls her right away when the fevers start, and she sounds okay and says she has no fever. The airlines are all down so he can’t go see her, and his heart hammers in his chest as she tells him she’s okay.

 

It’s not just him that suffers. All of the other members call every day because people aren’t allowed past city boundaries. The ones with families in Seoul go to their families.

 

But by the end of the week, everyone is back, looking haunted. Yifan has just gotten news his mother has succumbed to whatever it was.

 

The 12 of them spend the week after that in dulled stupor.

 

Now, six months later, people are still dying. They haven’t figured out a cure, or a vaccine, or even a means to slow the virus down once it hits. They don’t know when the virus will hit. It seems random and doesn’t really have anything to do with how healthy you are. It’s not contagious, as far as people can tell, but those who get caught with it in public are sent off to quarantine.

 

No one comes out alive from that quarantine.

 

They go on and pretend nothing happened. There’s no more entertainment, in almost any sort of form. No one can really deal with it. People don’t buy luxuries. There are theories that past a few years, those things will come back. For now, everyone is grieving and scared.

 

“Gege.” Yifan looks up from the book he hasn't really been reading. Zitao’s standing awkwardly in the doorway. “Baekhyun’s grandmother has a fever.”

 

Yifan closes his book quietly and stands. Baekhyun’s grandmother is the last remaining relative they had alive. Baekhyun hasn’t been able to go see her because of the limit on city boundaries, but she’s been fine for so long.

 

He comes out to see Baekhyun clutching his phone, face white as paper. Joonmyeon is kneeling next to him and rubbing his shoulder. No one says anything, and Baekhyun cries.

 

“Maybe it’s just a fever,” Sehun says, but Yifan can tell even he doesn’t believe it. It’s happened, sure. Before the quarantine, where people thought they had the disease, and it turned out to be just the flu. After quarantine, no one knows what happens to those people anymore. There are rumors that they’re all just killed in an attempt to cover the virus.

 

Minseok nods. “Tell her to stay inside. She doesn’t have to go to quarantine if no one knows.”

 

Baekhyun relays this information to his grandmother, and hangs up with a choked goodbye. “I need to go to her.” He says, thumbing his phone.

 

“Baekhyun.” Yixing says, his voice trembling. “We all understand. You _know_ we understand. But..”

  
  
Yifan is there to catch Baekhyun when he collapses, and they all cry together.

 

\--

 

Baekhyun’s grandmother passes away five days later. It’s a neighbor that finds her, and Baekhyun gets a call from the government. He stares at the window for a while.

 

Sehun looks haunted. Sehun, Chanyeol, and Joonmyeon were the ones who’d been able to go to their families, as they lived in Seoul. They’d watched the virus take place, and Yifan doesn’t have a doubt they’re reminded. Chanyeol comes up to him and snakes his arms around Yifan’s waist, hugging him close. Yifan can feel him tremble and he doesn’t know if he’s glad he wasn’t there to see his mother pass away or if he’s sad he wasn’t there for her.

 

\--

 

Three days later, Yifan wakes up feeling feverish. He blinks at the ceiling for a while, in the quiet of the dorm, and he stands to go to the bathroom.

 

The face that stares back at him is pale, and flushed with fever. His heart drops to his stomach.

 

Maybe it’s just the flu, he wants to tell himself. He shivers when a chill runs down his spine and he reaches to splash water on his face. He’s not strong enough even to turn the faucet. He crumbles to the ground, breathing hard.

 

He wonders if he could wake someone up, wonders if he _should_ , and then the thought hits him hard. What if he’s _contagious_? He scrambles up, swaying a little as he does, and grabs onto the towel rack to keep himself from falling.

 

He has to get himself away. To quarantine. Or – somewhere where his members aren’t.

 

He tries to take a step and fails, but then he steadies himself. Focus, Yifan, he tells himself. One step. One more. One more.

 

He’s going past the kitchen, clutching at the walls, when the lights flicker on. He turns and his heart is hammering in his chest. It’s Jongin. “Hey,” Jongin mumbles. “You getting a drink of water? Can I get one too?” Yifan is frozen. When he doesn’t respond for a while, Jongin frowns. “Hyung?”

 

He takes a step closer. “Wait!” Yifan cries, his voice coarse. “Stop. Don’t.”

 

Jongin slams to alertness immediately. “Oh, oh god.” He says, rushing over even though Yifan is trying to stop him. “Oh god, oh _no_. Hyung! Joonmyeon-hyung!” Jongin is screaming frantically, gripping on to Yifan as Yifan crumbles to the floor.

 

The lights all slam on, and Yifan squeezes his eyes shut.

 

\--

 

“It’s just the flu,” Jongdae tells him. No one believes it, least of all Yifan.

 

“Quarantine,” he replies.

 

Luhan snaps, “Don’t be stupid.” His voice softens. “Go to sleep. We’ll take care of you.” His hand rubs soothing circles on Yifan’s head, stroking through sweat-soaked hair even though Yifan thinks that must feel disgusting.

 

He wants to protest, but his body wants to sleep, especially now that he’s under thick blankets on a soft comforter. Luhan starts humming, just a bit, a soft Chinese lullaby Yifan thinks he’s heard before, and he stops trying to fight it.

 

\--

 

Joonmyeon closes the bathroom door and leans on it, sliding down and burying his face in his hands. His heart is thudding in his chest, beating rapidly and loudly. It started the moment he heard Jongin cry out his name, jolting him from sleep, and somehow he’d _known_ , just _known_ that one of his members had caught the virus.

 

It hadn’t stopped his heart from dropping to the ground when he saw Yifan in Jongin’s arms, face flushed with fever and obviously in pain.

 

Joonmyeon tries not to think about his family dying, each and every one succumbing to the fever. He remembers thinking he has to have been next, but he'd wanted to see his second family before that. He'd come back to see his members, but he was still alive.

 

His team. His members. His EXO.

 

He’s thought maybe they’d be lucky. The virus has hit the other groups now. There are very few that aren't effected, and for certain EXO is the only SM group that isn't. So he’s thought…

 

He rubs his face. He doesn’t have time for this. He stands and starts going through the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. They’re stocked full on medicine, because their managers had always made sure that's something they’d never lack. He knows there are more in the managers’ room, even if the room has been untouched since their death.

 

He digs out all the bottles that might help. They can get through this. They _will_ get through this.

 

\--

 

Luhan doesn’t stop stroking Yifan’s hair, even after he’s fallen asleep. His blonde hair’s dark with sweat, and Luhan thinks when Yifan wakes up, they’ll help him through a bath. Yifan’s breathing is shallow, his skin dry and papery and hot to the touch, and Luhan tries not to think about everything that could go wrong.

 

It’s a fever. Just a regular fever. Yifan’s been stressing out lately, so it makes sense his immune system’s down. Luhan closes his eyes and focuses on his own breathing instead of Yifan’s rough ones. Right. That’s just it.

 

He looks up when someone sits next to him. Joonmyeon’s got his hands full of bottles. They look through them together before deciding on one, setting that one on the bed for Yifan to take when he’s back up.

 

“He’s going to be okay,” Luhan tells Joonmyeon. Joonmyeon nods, but Luhan repeats anyway, “He’ll be fine.”

 

No one sleeps for the rest of the night, although by noon that day, Jongin and Sehun are curled up on Jongdae’s bed, dozing off as Jongdae reads. Jongdae hasn’t turned a page since he opened the book. There’s a knock on the door. Joonmyeon jumps up, his eyes fearful, and they shove the door to Yifan’s room shut.

 

Luhan is with Joonmyeon when he opens the door to government officials. Joonmyeon's voice is easy when he greets, “Hello.”

 

“Your monthly checkup is today.”

 

Luhan wants to curse, but Joonmyeon’s smile is smooth as silk. “Yes, I know. Please come in.”

 

Once each month, the government has started sending officials around, to check for family members keeping sick ones out of quarantine. There’s no rush, but when Luhan takes Joonmyeon’s hand, he realizes he’s shaking.

 

Luhan knows what Joonmyeon is counting on. The same person comes every month, and they’ve never had problems. They’ve had the bottles of medicine from the beginning, and since they’re all healthy, the official has been brushing over their rooms.

 

He sticks his heads into rooms, where the members smile awkwardly, opens the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, and that’s it. “Where are the others?”

 

Joonmyeon smiles. It’s strained, but the man doesn’t seem to notice. “Yifan and Jongdae are still sleeping. We’ve been… We haven’t been to sleep at night recently because of Baekhyun’s… I’m sure you know. Jongin and Sehun are with them in their room. They just fell asleep, and I’d really hate to wake them up again. You could peek in, maybe? If you need to?”

 

The official glances at the closed door Joonmyeon motions to and nods, a little sympathetically. “Yeah. I understand. Just open the door for me? I won’t even go in.”

 

Luhan’s heart thumps in his chest, and Joonmyeon quietly, slowly opens the door. The man peeks in, nods, and doesn’t make any notes on his board. He motions for Joonmyeon to close the door, and that’s that.

 

Once the official is gone, Luhan collapses to the ground. He runs to the door and yanks it back open. Jongin’s curled himself around Yifan, placing himself on the side of the door so that the man couldn’t get a good look at Yifan. He stands up, his eyes wide. “Did – did he leave?” The medicine bottles fall out from under the blankets when he rises.

 

“Yeah.” Joonmyeon nods, leaning on the wall. “Yeah, he’s gone. When did you wake up?”

 

“Jongdae-hyung woke me up.” Jongin’s voice is shaking as he climbs out, smoothing the covers back onto Yifan. Jongdae is breathing hard as well, his eyes wide with his hand pressed to his chest. Sehun is silent, but his hands are clenched. “We can’t send him to quarantine.”

 

Luhan sits down by Yifan’s side and picks up the dropped medicine bottles. Yifan not waking up throughout the entire commotion gnaws at his chest, but he ignores it. “Don’t be stupid. Whoever wants to take him to quarantine will have to fight through the rest of us. He’s staying here. And he’s not sick. It’s just the flu.”

 

“Right,” Sehun echoes, leaning heavily on Jongdae. He mumbles, “Just the flu.”

 

They all want to believe it.

 

\--

 

Yifan manages to walk about a little when he wakes up, and that takes a bit of weight off Chanyeol’s chest. His movements are sluggish and stuttered, but Chanyeol remembers when his family caught the virus, they hadn’t been able to move at all.

 

Maybe Luhan's right. It’s just the flu, after all.

 

Thinking about his family makes his breath stutter and his chest feel stuffy, but he pushes it away. He’s had time to grieve. He misses them, loves them and wishes more than anything they are here. But they’re not, and right now Yifan is sick. Chanyeol needs to focus on the living.

 

Luhan and Joonmyeon are never more than a few feet away from Yifan. They don’t let him do anything. If he wants a glass of water, Luhan’s already pouring it out for him. If he wants to read, Joonmyeon has already grabbed the book for him. They watch him like hawks, twitching every time he stumbles in his step.

 

Zitao had helped Yifan shower, and he looks better freshly showered. Yixing had made him soup and he’s managed to eat that, and then medicine as Joonmyeon urged.

 

Yifan looking better is just the medicine at work, Chanyeol thinks, but then medicine doesn’t work on the virus. Chanyeol sticks close to Yifan’s side. He doesn’t hover like Luhan and Joonmyeon – he just clings. Yifan doesn’t complain, just ruffles his hair and sags like he doesn’t have the energy to say anything else.

 

“I’m going to sleep with hyung,” Chanyeol announces, when Yifan slumps against him in medicine-induced sleep. “Luhan-hyung, Joonmyeon-hyung, you two take a break.”

 

They don’t, and all of them ended up crowded in the room Yifan and Jongdae share.

 

\--

 

Yifan doesn’t get better.

 

Minseok is scrolling his hands through Yifan’s hair. He’s soaked in cold sweat again, his clothes nearing damp as he shivers under the fleece blanket Minseok smoothed over him. Yifan’s asleep, but it’s an uncomfortable sleep. Medicine doesn’t work anymore and his fever rages through the entire day, leaving Yifan exhausted and spent even when he’s awake.

  
Yifan’s head rests on Minseok’s lap, and Minseok can feel every heated breath stuttering out onto his thigh. “Everything is going to be okay, Yifan.” He tells him, and Yifan stirs. “You’re going to be fine.”

 

And he has to believe it. He _does_ believe it. He knows the others, do, too. None of them are fooling themselves anymore on whether it’s just a flu or the virus, but none of them are going to let the virus take Yifan away.

 

It doesn’t matter if no one else survived it. Someone has to be the first at everything. And Minseok is going to put his own life on the line before he sees Yifan become just another statistic.

 

Yifan moans in discomfort in his sleep and Minseok rubs his thumb across his cheek. “Shhh,” he whispers, combing his hand through Yifan’s hair. “Shh, it’s going to be all right. I’m right here.”

 

\--

 

Yifan lasts past the week.

 

It has to be a record for the virus, Yixing thinks, rubbing Yifan’s body down with a cool towel. Zitao still manages to shower Yifan every few days, but Yifan’s sweating in droves as his body rages in high fever, so they have to change his clothes often. He’s still battling with fever, but the virus hasn’t progressed past that stage.

 

He can still eat, although very little, and he still insists on getting up and about. None of them stop him. They’re all scared of what’ll happen once he can’t get out of bed anymore.

 

“Ge,” Yixing says, rubbing Yifan’s neck when he tries to sit up. “Need some help?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Yixing remembers when Yifan would refuse all sort of help. But now he accepts it and even looks for it. Yixing doesn’t think it makes him weaker. Admitting he needs help probably means he’s stronger, but Yifan wouldn't see it that way. Yixing helps him sit up and then holds him with a steady hand as Yifan slides his legs off the bed.

 

Kyungsoo looks up from the TV he’s watching. It’s all news lately, on who’s died and how many people are sick. He turns it off when he sees Yifan and shifts so Yifan can lie down on the couch and put his head in Kyungsoo’s lap. “Do you want something to eat?” Yixing asks, kneeling in front of the couch.

 

“Not hungry.”

 

Kyungsoo frowns, running a thumb over Kris’ cheekbones. Now that he’s lost so much weight, they’re so prominent. “You skipped breakfast, too. Come on, hyung, let’s eat something.”

 

Yifan doesn’t say anything, so Yixing goes to make some soup. It’s the only thing Yifan can eat, so Yixing and Kyungsoo has been looking up every kind of soup ever. The vegetables in their fridge are running out, so he’s going to have to tell Sehun and Jongin to go grocery shopping again.

  
He keeps glancing over at Yifan. He’s got his eyes closed, but from the way Kyungsoo’s hunched over talking to him in a low voice, he guesses he’s not asleep. All the same, he hurries, because these days Yifan doesn’t stay awake for too long.

 

Yixing doesn’t think about what might happen, if one day Yifan stops waking up.

 

\--

 

Jongin gets a fever, 15 days after Yifan gets his, and Yifan has a meltdown. “It’s me; I’m contagious,” he’s babbling, sobbing and almost delirious with a fever that’s too high. “Oh god, oh god, oh _god_.”

 

He starts throwing up, which is the beginning of the second stage, and Zitao feels like his world is crumbling under his feet. Yifan can’t eat anything, he can’t stop crying, and now _Jongin_ is sick. Yifan passes out from fever and pain, mumbling about quarantine.

 

None of them sleep that night, but then come morning, Jongin starts coughing. The virus doesn’t come with a cough. Yifan hasn’t coughed since the day he got sick. All of them crumble in relief, and Zitao holds Yifan in his arms, rocking him. “It’s just a cold,” he tells Yifan, when Yifan blearily opens his eyes. “Jongin’s just got a cold.” That makes Yifan cry all over again, gripping at Zitao’s shirt.

 

All of EXO is affected by Yifan getting sick. But it hurts Zitao the most. Yifan is his brother. Not his _actual_ brother, yes. But his _gege_. The one he always depends on. Yifan had always been so strong. Sure, physically Yifan was weaker than a lot of them, tall but scrawny, but he was always there for everyone. He took care of the younger trainees, and Zitao had always clung to his side in the foreign country.

 

Now Yifan needs _him_ , needs the rest of them, and every time Yifan moans in pain, it’s like someone is dragging knife through his chest. Yifan cries, Zitao knows this, but he hides his tears. The other members know, but they don’t say anything.

 

But here he is, crying so openly, and Zitao can’t do anything but hold him and tell him everything is going to be okay.

 

It breaks Zitao’s heart.

 

\--

 

Once the vomiting starts, it doesn’t stop. Jongin gets better the next day, but Yifan can’t stop throwing up. They’ve moved a bucket into the room, fitted with a clean plastic bag each time, and Sehun rubs Yifan’s back as he convulses, retching drily because he’s thrown up everything in his stomach. Sehun remembers how his family was. Fever that refused to break at first, and then unstoppable vomiting. They were vomiting blood soon after that, and then they got so weak they could barely breathe.

 

Sehun doesn’t want to think about what came afterward.

 

Jongin thinks it’s his fault, although everyone knows it isn’t. They all know now to be careful, that even _if_ someone catches something – the cold, the flu, the virus, whatever – they need to keep Yifan calm. Joonmyeon talks Jongin through it, tells him that more than anything, Yifan needs to see Jongin be okay now, so Jongin is with Sehun, sitting by Yifan’s bedside.

 

Sehun knows Yifan’s thin. He’s tall, but not really broad, and really, really thin. But Yifan’s lost even more weight now, unable to eat and throwing up everything even when Kyungsoo and Yixing _can_ get something into him. He collapses into Sehun’s chest, and he doesn’t even feel heavy.

 

Yifan groans, in pain, and Sehun ducks his head. He whispers, “Where does it hurt?”

 

Yifan responds, “Everywhere.” Yifan hadn’t complained, not about his raging fever, not about his lack of appetite, or the pain that coursed his body, but he’s started to and Sehun thinks it’s just getting that much unbearable. He remembers his brother crying out in pain, and Sehun’s brother had _never_ done that before. He prays Yifan doesn’t end up the same.

 

\--

 

Kyungsoo pokes at the cooling porridge on the stove. He’s made it without thinking. Now that Yifan’s throwing up, they can’t get him to keep down anything that’s thicker than watered down smoothies. They taste like nothing, and probably have next to no nutritious value, especially in the small gulps Yifan can manage, but Yifan can’t take in anything heavier.

 

Kyungsoo shoves the porridge into the sink. Throws it, almost. He’s about to dump water into it, but Yifan comes stumbling out, half-carried by Chanyeol. “Hey,” Yifan smiles, weakly, and Chanyeol eases him onto the couch, tugging a fleece blanket around him. “Something smells good.”

 

Kyungsoo lifts the pot back out and puts it back on the stove. “Hold on,” he says. “I’ll get it hot in a second.”

 

It’s the first sign of appetite Yifan has had since two and a half weeks ago, and Kyungsoo doesn’t bother getting it too hot – just warm enough so Yifan isn’t eating cold porridge. He runs it over to Yifan, who’s snuggled into Chanyeol’s side. Yifan takes more bites than Kyungsoo thought he might, and he ends up running back to get more.

 

Chanyeol’s grinning. Yixing and Joonmyeon and Minseok, who’d come to sit by Yifan, are all smiling. Kyungsoo feeds him slowly and Yifan doesn’t complain about being spoon fed. But his eyes are fluttering shut, and he’s leaning more heavily on Chanyeol as time passes.

 

He falls asleep, and he kind of reminds Kyungsoo of a rag doll. Minseok carries him back, easily, although it looks weird because Yifan is so much taller. Kyungsoo puts the rest of the porridge into the fridge.

 

He sits by Yifan’s bedside that night, half expecting him to shiver awake and throw up everything, but Yifan sleeps through the night, almost peaceful except the small crease in his brow.

 

\--

 

Yifan doesn’t throw up for three days after that, and now that Yifan’s been alive for three full weeks, Jongin thinks just maybe he’s going to be okay, that everything will be fine.

 

Until they get a phone call from a sobbing Hyoyeon telling them Sooyoung had passed away. They keep the news shushed from Yifan, who’s just started to gain a little weight back. It’s not hard, Jongin finds, and finding that out surprises him. They’ve all become so dulled to death.

 

Two days after the news, even though they don't tell Yifan, he starts vomiting blood. It’s not what Jongin expected when he heard _vomiting blood_. He’d thought it’d just be vomit with noticeable traces of blood. Or maybe that Yifan would hack up bits of blood.

 

But it’s not.

 

A tumble of crimson liquid spills from Yifan’s lips, dying his lips red, and he falls hard against Jongin’s chest, shivering. Yifan’s body convulses again, and he tries to push away but he’s too weak and Jongin’s gripping him to hard. Jongin ends up with blood all over his shirt, and he screams for Joonmyeon or Minseok or Luhan or _anyone_.

 

Luhan’s the first one that runs over. He freezes in his place when he sees the blood but when Yifan coughs, hacking up more, he rushes over, grabbing a sheet on the way to rub at Yifan’s lips. “You’re going to be okay,” Luhan tells Yifan, his voice firm. He kicks the door shut. “Don’t let Chanyeol or Sehun or Joonmyeon in,” he tells Zitao.

 

All Jongin can do is hold Yifan as he whimpers, his mouth slack and unable to hold back anything as his body spasms, more blood tumbling onto Jongin. Luhan’s voice doesn’t shake as he talks to Yifan in low Chinese that Jongin can’t understand, and his fingers don’t shake as he rubs at Yifan’s chin and catches the new blood as it falls.

 

There’s too much blood, Jongin thinks, hugging Yifan tighter to him. He’s going to die.

 

Luhan sings in soft Chinese. It sounds like a lullaby.

 

\--

 

Yifan hasn’t woken since the day he threw blood up all over Jongin, and that was three days ago. Jongin is traumatized by it, and Jongdae doesn’t blame him. He hasn’t left Yifan’s bedside except to go the bathroom and shower when he’s pushed into it, but he clings onto Yifan’s hand as long as possible.

 

Joonmyeon and Sehun and Chanyeol are also permanent fixtures in the room. Jongdae closes his eyes. They’re all permanent fixtures here. Jongdae pretends not to notice that they’ve lost hope. The three of them are the ones that know the symptoms best, and Jongdae tries to forget the stages Chanyeol told him. Fever in stage one. Vomiting in stage two. Vomiting blood in stage three. Complete fatigue in stage four.

 

And then death.

 

Jongdae buries his head in his arms, trying not to think of Yifan not waking up as stage four. It’s almost been a month, and he wants to scream at a god he never believed in, except he doesn’t know if he wants to plead for mercy or shout in anger.

 

Minseok sits calmly reading on Jongdae’s bed. Luhan is by Yifan’s side, stroking his hand gently and singing the melody they all know now. Baekhyun has his head down, on Yifan’s side, his fingers tapping lightly at Yifan’s wrist to the rhythm of Luhan’s humming.

 

Jongdae doesn’t know how Baekhyun is dealing. He hasn’t had time to mourn over his grandmother’s death before Yifan was hit with it. He used to see Baekhyun staring blankly at something before catching himself and shaking his head, like he was trying to shake something off. Used to stare blankly into space until he was crying silently and one of the other members went to hold him. But not anymore. 

 

Jongdae thinks Luhan and Minseok and Baekhyun are the ones that never doubted Yifan would live. Jongdae has had doubts, over the course of the month, as did the others, but the three never wavered. Jongdae remembers Luhan’s steady hand as he cleaned Yifan’s blood, remembers Minseok taking the bloodied clothes without a blink of the eye and disposing of it who-knows-where, and remembers Baekhyun already being ready with a bucket of cool water and a clean change of clothes while the others had stood in shock.

 

Jongdae thinks, maybe, that Yifan doesn’t need a miracle. He just needs people who believe he’ll make it, and they’ll just take him through each and every day until someone finds a cure.

 

His stomach suddenly feels light and he leans forward toward Luhan. “Teach me the song,” he asks, and Luhan smiles at him. “I want to sing it for him too.”

 

\--

 

It’s been two months since Yifan fell sick, and four and a half weeks since he threw up blood all over Jongin.

 

Four, since he woke up, vomiting over Joonmyeon who couldn’t care less about getting thrown up on and couldn’t stop laughing and crying. Two and a half, since he stopped throwing up. Three days, since he started being able to get out of bed again.

 

Yifan’s still weak, and he can’t eat much or stay awake too long, but he’s still alive and fighting. The fever still wrecks his body and makes him shiver in the hot Korean summer. His skin is still papery and hot to the touch, and his lips have been chapped for weeks.

 

But he gets up. Wobbles, a bit, and he’s more carried by Chanyeol than walking by himself, but he’s up.

 

Baekhyun has never thought in the two months that Yifan wouldn’t make it. He sits on the floor of the bathroom and squeezes shampoo into his hands. Yifan sat in the hot water, lulled to sleep by the warm water and Baekhyun’s hands. “Don’t fall asleep,” Baekhyun says, although he thinks it’s a little too late for that. He adjusts Yifan’s head so he’s not straining his neck too much and lathers his hair gently, taking care for it not to drop on his lashes.

 

Yixing had bought a blonde hair dye from the store, and considering all things, the dye job actually turns out decent. Or maybe Yifan isn't capable of looking bad. The rest of them have all recently gotten haircuts when Yifan started being able to move again, but Yifan’s hair had grown out a lot over the two months.

 

Baekhyun rinses Yifan quickly, filling the tub with hot water again to soap him down. Even he can lift Yifan easily out from the tub. He’s lost too much weight and he probably isn’t gaining it back anytime soon. But he’s alive. And still fighting. Baekhyun quickly towels him dry and shifts him against his shoulder. It’s weird to hold Yifan – Baekhyun almost feels like Yifan's legs would drag on the ground (but even Yifan isn’t _that_ tall).

 

Zitao’s already redid the covers on the bed when Baekhyun emerges from the bathroom, careful not to hit Yifan on the edges of the door. Zitao spreads a towel on the pillow to catch the rest of the dampness in Yifan’s hair, and runs his hand through the blonde. Yixing’s dye job hadn’t turned out _perfect_ , and the two yellows were different shades, but Yifan even manages to pull that off.

 

“He’s going to be okay, isn’t he, hyung?” Zitao asks, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

 

Baekhyun smiles and rubs Yifan’s wrist. “Yeah.”

 

Even though Yifan’s already asleep, Baekhyun starts humming the lullaby they now all know.


End file.
